One Direction star Liam Payne‘s ex fiancee Maya Henry has revealed an exclusive look inside her debut novel, which was inspired by her own traumatic past relationships.
The Texan model and writer, 23, who dated Liam on and off from 2019 to 2022, has released Looking Forward, a fictional account of a toxic romance between Mallory Hunt and frontman Oliver Smith, who gets swept up in the rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle, taking drugs, sexting other women and ultimately controlling his girlfriend.
Maya revealed the book’s official title and cover, which features a sketch of a man carrying a guitar, back in February, and told fans she was ‘nervous’ to share the story which has been inspired by her own trauma.
‘I’m very nervous to share a project that was once my most personal outlet of joy and freedom – a story I never intended to share,’ she wrote on Instagram. ‘I hope that by doing so, anyone out there experiencing similar trauma and hardships as my main character will feel less alone.’
Maya also revealed a content warning, which read: ‘This book contains sensitive material relating to: abuse, violence, self-harm, drug and alcohol use, eating disorders, and abortion.’
Read an exclusive extract from Looking Forward
Maya Henry, who was once engaged to One Direction’s Liam Payne (pictured), has penned her debut novel, inspired by her own traumatic past relationships
‘I wake up early to loud laughter, my heart racing. Where is Oliver? I think, frantic. What the f**k is going on?
When I get to the kitchen, I find a disaster zone. The few friends are still here, partying like crazy. Booze bottles everywhere, drugs right out in the open. Oliver sitting at the breakfast table in the kitchen with black, beady eyes, talking a mile a minute.
Some random guy is holding Oscar. How did that happen? The puppy was asleep in my bed. But now some drugged-out stranger is petting him with dirty fingernails, and Oscar looks scared.
That’s when I lose it.
I race over and get my puppy, holding him protectively, then make a beeline for Oliver. I say, “You guys are still here?” “What the f**k, Oliver?” His friends are watching. They seem amused, clearly enjoying the show.
“What’s the problem?” he slurs, then laughs.
What’s the problem? Really? Well, Oliver, let’s see . . . how about all the lies? How about the trash everywhere, the strangers in our house? People who might take pictures and send them to the press? Oh, and the drugs. Did I mention those? The ones people are snorting right off the kitchen counter?
But I don’t say any of that, because he’s so f****d up he can hardly stand. Instead, I turn to the room. “The party is over,” I yell. “Everyone needs to get the f**k out now!”
Looking Forward is a fictional account of a toxic romance between Mallory Hunt and frontman Oliver Smith, who gets swept up in the rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle. Design by Thomas Warming
It takes a little bit of time, along with threats to call the cops, but the place is finally empty. All that’s left is Oliver, who clearly is f****d up and doesn’t care what happened.
“Why the f**k did you do that?” he yells. “It was just some friends!”
The fight gets heated quickly, and he finally announces he’s had enough and is going to take a shower. Then, just like that, he disappears down the hall.
I walk slowly through various rooms, taking stock of the chaos. The place is trashed. Even the living room, though it was obviously more of a private party in there. A place for Oliver to pregame before the crowd showed up.
His guitar is there, and drugs. A bottle of expensive whiskey Oliver was saving, now half empty.
Yup, Oliver was here with a whole secret stash I’ve never seen. And at this point, he’s not even bothering with the secret part. I shake my head, disgusted, and that’s when I notice the TV screen. It’s on, but it’s not playing a movie or show. I step closer and understand. Oliver’s mirrored his phone to it. He does that all the time to watch videos and to listen to music. Only this time, it’s his texts. This idiot is so messed up that he forgot his phone was mirrored to the TV.
Then I move in closer and start to read. These aren’t just texts, they are sexts. His gross sexts right there in their crystal-clear, 4K plasma glory.
Oh my God. Not again.
They are explicit. It’s CutiePie all over again, only this time . . . I am shocked. At a loss for words. So shocked that I run to the trash to throw up.
Maya revealed the book’s cover, which features a sketch of a man carrying a guitar, back in February, and told fans she was ‘nervous’ to share the story which has been inspired by her own trauma
I don’t remember much after that. Just confusion and fury, then racing to find Oliver. He’s in his office, and the second I see him, I’m shouting a bunch of things, confronting him, my anger so intense I barely recognize my own voice.
He doesn’t apologize, I remember that. He doesn’t make excuses. Instead, he . . . gets mad.
It’s my fault, that’s what he says. He gives me all sorts of reasons, but I’m too worked up to take them in, and they are crazy anyway.
Sweats, that’s one of them. He did this because . . . I wear sweats around the house. He adds some other stuff, which makes even less sense.
“I mean, what kind of girl does that stuff?” he concludes. “I mean, what kind of bitch doesn’t give a f**k about stuff like that? Also, I don’t think you are working out when you say you are, and I only kept you around because you know too much,” he lashed out, only to quickly backtrack. “ I’m sorry I said that. You just know how to push my buttons, Mal.”
That’s when it all comes crashing in. The fury and anger and exhaustion come shooting out of me in every direction.
That’s when I snap.
“I’ll tell you what kind of girl!” I scream. “The kind who gets stood up at her f*****g abortion! The kind who doesn’t want her fianceé doing cocaine in front of her grandmother! The kind of bitch who thinks she’s worth more than your sorry, lying, fraudulent, cheating ass, you f*****g worthless piece of s**t! You won’t have sex with me for months on end, and whenever I try to, you tell me I’m some kind of sex addict. There is always some f*****g excuse with you! You are the most selfish man I have ever met. All you care about is yourself. You will destroy and try to bring down anyone around you!”
The model, 23, said that she was inspired to write the novel after suffering ‘a period in my life filled with a lot of pain’ (pictured in July 2022)
I don’t know what I’m saying. It’s just coming out, a waterfall of hatred spilling from me, unstoppable. I keep going, saying everything I never said, screaming at the top of my lungs, eyes blurry with tears, throat raw, no idea what I’m even doing, just taking all the pain and disappointment and hurt he’s ever caused and shooting it back at him in a spray of word bullets.
I don’t know how long it goes on. Forever, that’s how it feels. It goes on until I’m weak and exhausted and don’t have the strength for one more word.
It takes a second for the room to stop spinning. For my eyes to focus. When they do, Oliver is staring at me in shock and horror. His eyes are wide. He looks like a kid who just watched his dog get killed.
“You f******g c**t,” he says. “No one has ever talked to me like that before.”
I nod, suddenly clearheaded and calm. “I know,” I say. “Like you said . . . I’m the only one who tells you the truth.” Then I look him dead in the eyes, take a deep breath, and finally say it.
“I’m leaving you,” I tell him, my voice measured. “And I want you gone while I pack. Find somewhere to stay tonight.”
I turn around, get Oscar, and head to the bedroom to pack up any belongings I may have left. I don’t look back. I hear him gathering stuff and yelling to himself, then stomping down the hallway to the front door. A sudden silence, then he bellows, “Don’t even bother telling anyone anything. No one will believe you anyways. Plus I can do whatever I want because the fans always take our side, no matter what we do! I’m leaving, and you will never ever hear from me again!”
Good, I think.
“You will never find anyone richer and better than me, you bitch!” he screams.
Same, I think.
Maya posted a statement to announce news of the book in February and said she hopes it will help people who have experienced similar to ‘feel less alone’
Maya also revealed a content warning about ‘abuse, violence, self-harm, drug and alcohol use, eating disorders, and abortion’
Then I hear the door slam. I look at Oscar, staring at me from the bed. “Just like I said,” I tell him. “It’s you and me, buddy.” Oscar wags his tail. Of course, it isn’t really over. Not yet. With a guy as destructive as Oliver, there’s always a lower low to hit. A horrific final act.
After our fight, I’m furious and focused and . . . exhausted. It’s all too much. I just want to get my stuff together so that I can go home. As I am going around the house, making sure I get all my belongings, I get distracted. I find boxes with files, old phones, and external storage devices. Of course I can’t help but be a little curious, considering everything I’ve come to find out about Oliver. I am drawn into a long black hole. I lose track of time.
At some point, I fall asleep…
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiingggggggggg . . .
Mom. On FaceTime. I accept the call.
As soon as I see her face, I know something is very, very wrong. She stares at me, eyes wide.
“Where is Oliver?” she asks. “What’s going on, Mom?”
“Oliver sent me a text.”
“What kind of—”
“Not just me, either. A bunch of people. Looks like a group message.” She motions to her left, and Abuela’s face appears, peeping into the edge of the screen. My adorable grandmother, tiny and always smiling. Abuela, whose face always lights up when she sees me.
Only now, she isn’t looking at me. She’s looking down at the iPhone screen, face pale and eyes wide.
A page from the book features mock up text messages of Oliver’s apology as he enters rehab one month after he sent a nude to all his phone contacts
My mother reaches out, taking the phone from her.
“Wait, I don’t understand,” I say. “Oliver sent a text to . . . you?”
“Not just me. There are several numbers on this text,” she says, voice growing more frantic. “I don’t recognize them, but some are in London.”
“Mom, stop!” I say, my heart beating way too fast. “Just tell me what it said, okay?”
“It didn’t say anything,” she says. “It was a picture.”
“What kind of—”
Before I can finish, she’s turned the screen around. I stare in disbelief, then horror.
My fiance sent a dick pic to my mother and God knows who else.
My stomach drops, the room spinning, my mind jumbling. Then one thought rises, unexpectedly.
Oh my God.
Looking Forward is available to buy now on Amazon.com